by Anna J.
Taking a peek at my phone, I had twenty-seven missed calls from an anonymous caller, and it was working my nerves. Hell, it could be some chick I met recently or my worst nightmare on the other end. Either way, I wasn’t interested. I was curious though, so I decided if the phone rang again, I might answer it.
Around seven thirty my anonymous caller buzzed my phone again I picked up the phone, my agitation clearly evident in the tone of my voice.
“State ya purpose, quick!” I growled into the phone. I didn’t make it a habit of answering calls when I didn’t know who was on the other end. I was knee deep in illegal shit, and the last thing I needed was the jakes on my ass. Only a handful of niggas knew the math, so for someone to call me with a blocked number spelled trouble.
“Carlos, it’s me, Shaneka,” the soft, feminine voice responded from the other end of the phone line. She sounded like she was crying, but that was none of my concern. The only nigga that gave a damn was dead now, so what did she want me to do? Instead of responding to her obvious cry for attention, I straight blacked on her like she was one of my many enemies.
“What I tell you about calling out my government, and why in hell are you calling me from a blocked number? You know I don’t play those games.”
“Well, C-Dogg, I had some valuable information for you, but since you want to act like a damn nut—” she spoke into the phone sarcastically. I could almost see the look on her face, probably a smirk with her eyebrows raised.
“Listen, speak ya piece, okay? If you got info, spill it. If not, get off my dime,” I barked into the phone, cutting her off.
The part that killed me the most was that she acted like she was all bent out of shape over Rico’s passing, but the entire time they were together I was tapping her ass to no end. Hell, the day he got busted I had just finished tearing her guts up before I went over there. She would come and blow me early in the morning, then later that day I’d see her tongue kissing Rico like my soldiers weren’t just tickling her tonsils a few hours before. Snakes! Kin always recognized kin.
“Damn, since when has it been like that between us? You act like I never done you right.”
“Shaneka, please tell me what I need to know, ma.” I counted to ten to bring my blood pressure down. I had to refrain from banging on her ass because I swear we’d be arguing like we were a fuckin’ couple. This girl was trying my last nerve early in the game.
“If you insist,” she responded, sounding like she had shit in check. I decided to let her have that small victory for now. “Well, remember when I told you I thought I saw Monica before?” she asked, knowing damn well we’d already had that conversation.
“Yeah, I remember, why?”
“Well, peep this shit . . .”
Shaneka broke everything down from when she met Monica a while back up at the prison. The same guard Shaneka told me she was having problems with was giving Monica heat. As payback they did a number on the guard’s car by slashing all four tires and putting a mixture of sugar, popcorn kernels, and Snickers candy bars in her gas tank. So even if the guard got new tires, by the time she started the engine, and that mixture started circulating, the car would be no good.
Come to find out Shaneka and Monica were visiting the same person. The men are housed about a mile down the road, but the visiting room is shared by both sexes to make it easier to keep track of the prisoners during visiting hours since none of the guards wanted to do any real work anyway.
Shaneka had been seeing a woman named Tanya for over a year and a half before Monica started to visit Tanya. Shaneka was rotating between seeing her brother one week and Tanya the next. Monica always visited Tanya on the week Shaneka wasn’t seeing her, but Shaneka remembered what Tanya said about Monica’s involvement with Tanya ending up on lockdown. It just didn’t click in Shaneka’s mind who Monica was until after Monica gave her a business card.
Shaneka met Tanya on a day she and her mom were visiting with her brother, and they had been cool ever since. She told Tanya that she would help her when she got out, and they became fast friends, and later on lovers. Rico never knew what was going on. Shaneka was practically running circles around him.
Her hate came about for Monica when they broke up and she found out Rico saw Monica that same day. Never mind that Monica knew nothing about Rico and Shaneka. Her vendetta was definitely personal on getting Monica back.
“So, what does all of this have to do with me?” I asked.
“I’m getting to that now,” she sighed, getting a little attitude because I had cut her off again.
She went on to talk about all the similarities between them, and how they knew a lot of the same people with both of them being photographers and artists. I think I heard her say something about a pink bitch, but I wasn’t sure. She rambled on for about another ten minutes before I had to cut her off again. The information she was giving me I already knew, or didn’t give a damn about, so what was the purpose of the call?
“Shaneka, please get to the point, damn!”
“Okay, okay. Damn . . . so angry,” she replied, afterward sucking her teeth. I didn’t give a damn.
“Well, how about I saw her at the doctor’s office this morning and you are not going to believe me when I tell you this!”
“Tell me what, Shaneka?”
“How ’bout that bitch is pregnant.”
“And?” I said more than asked, confused as to why I should give a damn. Hell, it wasn’t my seed.
“And? Nigga, I think it may be Rico’s,” she said, bursting into tears again. Now I knew why she was so upset.
“And you care because?”
“I care because that bitch stole my man, had him killed, and now she’s having his baby.”
“How you know she had Rico killed?” I asked, curious as to where she got her information. I thought maybe she knew something I didn’t.
“I don’t, but I think she did. Anyway, she’s pregnant by my man. That’s what’s important.”
“So what you gonna do?”
“Get her ass back! What the hell you mean what I’m gonna do?”
“I meant how, Shaneka, damn!”
“I’ll get back to you on that by the end of the day, but I do have a tad bit of info that may work to your advantage.”
“Word? What’s that?” I asked, now bored with the conversation. I had my own neck to protect. Her shit was on solo this time.
“You know that cute little young girl that you be fuckin’ all crazy over in Tasker projects? The one you got twisted on that coke?”
“Yeah,” I said, now listening more to what she had to say.
“Well, if you’re looking for a way to get at Monica, that’s it. That pretty little young thing you got turned out is Monica’s little sister.”
Before I could say anything else, she hung up the phone, and I had a million questions I wanted to ask her. One thing I could honestly say about Shaneka was this: she may have been a little on the annoying side, but when she had some info she was usually on point—99.9 percent like a paternity test. I must say that shit she had just dropped on me was heavy, and I had to take a step back before I made my next move.
It’s funny how small the world is, because I would have never in a million years connected Yoyo with Monica. Yolanda was a cutie for sure. Small waist, bubble butt, perfect breasts with kissable nipples, and the same heart-shaped mouth like her older sister. They were both dimes, the only difference being their last names. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t put two and two together.
As fly as Yoyo was, and as good as that pussy felt while she was riding me, she had one hell of a damn habit. My girl got her snort on, and was serious with it. Now, don’t get me wrong, she didn’t look like your average Joe Crackhead, but that girl would snort all day if the blow was available. And talk about wild sex! Man, that shit must run in the family because this chick was a beast.
One night I slid through for my waxing and she answered the door ass naked holding a silk scarf in one ha
nd, and two pair of handcuffs in the other. My man came to life instantly, causing my pants to tent majorly in the front. She didn’t say anything to me. She just dropped the handcuffs and scarf on the floor, and walked toward her bedroom in the back of the apartment.
Now, I ain’t gonna lie, I was stuck on dysfunctional for a hot second. I knew she liked being creative, but sometimes she didn’t give me a clue. I just had to walk in there and do my own thing. So now my mind was racing a mile a minute as I bent over to pick up the items from the floor before locking the door. She had a fly little apartment and she kept it neat, so I made sure to hang my coat up before going into the bedroom.
When I walked in, Yoyo was on the bed lying on her side with one leg up to her chest working a dildo from the back. Her other hand helped keep her nipples in her mouth as soft moans escaped her lips. I damn near exploded watching her in that somewhat compromising position. Shedding my clothes quickly, I joined her on the bed.
First turning her on her back, I tied the scarf she gave me around her eyes so she couldn’t see what I was doing to her. Grabbing another scarf from the nightstand, I tied her hands tightly to the headboard so she couldn’t move. I had to take a second and slow down before it was over, and it hadn’t even started yet. Looking at her body stretched out on the bed, and my name tattooed across her pelvis where hair should be, almost had me wanting to wife her . . . almost.
Taking both pairs of handcuffs, after placing the keys in her hand, I first attached them to my wrist then to her ankles so she couldn’t move. Yolanda was practically double jointed so I knew if I stretched her any which way she’d be able to conform. Normally, head was out of the question and never part of the equation, but that night I decided to show her what it was really hittin’ for.
Since my hands were connected to her ankles I pushed her legs up and out as far as they could go comfortably. I would suck on her clit softly, making it real wet, then I’d blow on it until it got cold, warming it with my mouth and cooling it off repeatedly. It was interesting to sit back and watch as her cream began to rise to the top and gather at her opening.
I took the tip of my tongue and traced the edge of her tunnel in a complete circle before I stuck my tongue inside her, tasting her sweet, yet tangy nectar. I tugged on her clit softly with my teeth, leaning back so I could watch her juice spill over the sides and run down, my tongue catching it at her asshole.
Yolanda was practically begging me to slide up in her, but I wasn’t ready yet. Pushing myself up on my knees I held on to her feet while I used my hips to rub the head of my man back and forth across her already sensitive clit. I would push just the head in, then pull it out and rub it across her clit again. Each time I went in, I pushed a little deeper until I was all the way inside her. I was killing the pussy with long, slow strokes, sometimes pulling out until just the tip of my dick was pressed against her, her walls gripping me like a Hoover trying to suck me back in.
Leaning in, I took her nipples into my mouth one at a time, since I couldn’t push them both together with my hands. I grinded my hips into hers, causing another series of explosions.
“Now, I’m gonna untie you, but I’m not taking the handcuffs off. You ready to ride?”
Instead of answering, she threw her legs back farther so I could untie the scarves from her eyes and wrist. Once she was untied, I grabbed her by her ankles and she held onto my neck as I maneuvered our bodies so she could be on top. My girl did the damn thing to me, uncuffing me so I could hold on to her waist. Yolanda rode me until I was bone dry. Afterward she retrieved the eight ball from my coat pocket. She worked for that nose candy, so I just sat back and gathered my thoughts while she did her thing.
Thinking back, that was the last time I was over there, and from the imprint in my sweat pants, it was time to pay her ass another visit. While she worked me over I could see what info she would give me about her sister. They didn’t appear to be close, and Yolanda was always out for self, so I was sure she could tell me something good. Making the call, she was all too happy to hear from me. We made plans to meet up before the week was out, and she made sure I knew what to bring with me.
Shortly after, just as I was reaching into my pants for a quick release, my cell phone buzzed indicating an incoming call. This time, Shaneka’s number flashed across the screen. Peeping the time, I saw that it was ten o’clock at night. Damn, where did the time go?
“Yeah,” I answered, feigning sleep. Unless she had more info, I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
“Carlos . . . I mean C-Dogg, I need you to drop a package off at FedEx for me in the morning.”
“On the real, Shaneka, I really don’t want no part of whatever you tryin’a pull off. I got my own shit to deal with.”
“Come on, C. You know I can’t go into FedEx since I got into that fight with the manager.”
“That’s not my problem. Ain’t nobody tell you to be in there on that hood shit. Go to another one.”
“Come on! It ain’t like you delivering a damn bomb. It’s a gift for Monica.”
“Oh, word? What is it?” I asked, curious as to how she was planning to get Monica back.
“It’s nothing really. Just a little something to let her know I got my eye on her. Can you please drop it off for me, please?”
“All right, already. Bring the shit by tonight, and I’ll drop it off in the morning.”
“I’m on my way.”
After hanging up the phone, I hopped in the shower. Since she was coming over, I thought I might as well get fucked nice. That should hold me until Saturday.
Monica
One Down, More to Go—1991
I ended up telling the principal only half the story because I didn’t want to have to explain the previous day’s events to my uncle. I used the excuse that I wasn’t feeling well so I could leave early. I walked home so I could take time to think, and I became a new person with each step. I was tired of Uncle Darryl having his way, and having to deal with the ridicule from the students in school. I was determined it all would end that day. In my mind I hatched a plan that would get my revenge on every person who ever did me wrong—especially those snotty-ass cheerleaders and that damn Ashley.
When I got home I ran up to my room and dropped my book bag in the corner. Standing in the mirror I took a look at my hair, deciding to loosen the ponytails. I went to my stash, took out three hundred dollars, and left the house, moving quickly toward the strip so I could get everything I needed and be home before my uncle got in.
Stopping at the hair store first, I picked up a mild relaxer, a can of Isoplus oil sheen, electric flatirons, and a satin cap to sleep in. Once I paid for my items I walked three doors down to The Style Shop, a clothing store that sold fashionable items at cheap prices. I tried on outfit after outfit and finally settled on five pairs of jeans with matching shirts, shoes, and purses.
Clasping the bags tightly to my chest, I raced back home with three hours to spare. Hiding my new clothes in the back of the closet behind the boring clothes Uncle Darryl bought for me, I sat down to read the directions on the Dark & Lovely relaxer kit. I didn’t want to risk my hair falling out from the procedure. Things were hard enough to deal with already without adding fuel to the fire. Following the directions, I worked the chemical into my hair until it was straight, and shampooed my hair three times to ensure all of the cream was removed.
After rinsing the conditioner and blowing my hair dry, I plugged in my brand new flatirons so they would be nice and hot when I was done cleaning up the mess I made in the bathroom. Taking a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer, I trimmed my ends, afterward taking small sections of my hair and binding them into a soft, bouncy wrap.
Satisfied with my look, I then wrapped my hair into a beehive like I had seen my mother do to her hair many times, and tied a bandana tightly around it so it would be perfect in the morning. Getting rid of the evidence, I proceeded to clean the house and prepare dinner before my uncle arrived home. As I cleaned, I decided
I would use a little more of the money I’d stashed to buy more clothes so I could keep up appearances.
I took the sharpest knife from the kitchen drawer, ran upstairs, and placed it under my pillow after I had made my bed. I didn’t think I could kill my uncle, but if he came in my room again, he would get it. I would be buying a lock for my door tomorrow, whether he liked it or not. After finishing my homework, I ate dinner, cleaned up my mess, and took a bath. I put lotion on my skin so it wouldn’t be dry, then got into bed to get some sleep.
My uncle came into the house around eight that night with one of his many girl toys. I woke up when I heard him come in, and I fed him and his company dinner, then cleaned the kitchen for the night. As I was walking by, he reached out and smacked me on my ass. I turned to say something, but before I got a word in, his lady friend was cursing him out.
“Darryl, you ain’t got no business touching that girl like that. Keep ya hands to ya self!”
“Bitch, mind ya business! This here is family business.”
“Oh, I know you ain’t just call me a bitch? Nigga, I’ll . . .”
While they argued back and forth I made my way upstairs. I felt relief for a second because I never had anyone take up for me. Everybody always acted like they didn’t know what was going on. At the same time, I wished she would’ve kept her mouth shut because I’d have to pay for it later. Once I was upstairs, I checked the position of the knife, closed my eyes, and anticipated my return to school. I contemplated how I would get Ashley back. I felt like the Grinch from How the Grinch Stole Christmas, hatching his plan to steal everything from the residents of Whoville.
I was abruptly awakened from my peaceful sleep by my uncle standing over my bed with his pants unfastened. I tried to act like I was sleeping, but my heart was beating a mile a minute in my chest as I gripped the knife under my pillow.
“Little bitch, I know you not sleep. Open up for Uncle Darryl,” he said as he dropped his pants to his ankles and stepped out of one pants leg before moving to climb on top of me.